


Skywalker’s Heir

by KeyToCastlesInTheAir



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Alderaan heritage, Amnesia, Ben Solo In The Mirror, Comforting Another, F/M, Fight for your Love, First Order Has Fallen, Force whisper, Get Out Jail Free Card, Grieving Leia's passing, Kylo Ren Dreams Of Rey, Lightside Utopia, Lost and Found, Luke Skywalker Rules The Galaxy, Marriage Stipulations, New Morning, POV Multiple, Prince Ben Solo, Prison, Remember Owning A Droid, Remember me - Freeform, Rey Is An Orphan Princess, Skywalker's Palace, The Courtship of Princess Rey, Wait We Can't, Wedding Gown Rey, Zen Luke, traditional Alderaan suit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeyToCastlesInTheAir/pseuds/KeyToCastlesInTheAir
Summary: A Reylo AU after the fall of the First Order. The Raddus ripped through the throne room as Kylo saved Rey. Ben was lost to Rey and Luke. With the galaxy in chaos, people turned to the last Jedi for guidance. Luke Skywalker became their sovereign ruler.Although Rey’s parents were drunken Jakku hobos, she knew all along her great-grandfather was the rightful heir of a prominent Outer Rim planet (The family fell on hard times. The usual: legitimacy issues followed by planet-based civil war). As Rey balances her duties as future Queen, including an impending royal courtship, Ben Solo comes back into her life. What’s worse, he has amnesia but is still very much in love with her. Duty and honor bound to help Ben; Rey fears her old feelings will only complicate her situation.Imprisoned as an unknown soldier, the man formerly known as Kylo Ren remembers little, mere random glimpses of his past. However, he knows he belongs with Rey. He’s seen her in his dreams. Confused, Ben thinks he knows what they shared together. He hopes to win her heart again, even if it means outmatching her suitor, becoming the Prince of the last surviving descendants of Alderaan, a Jedi, and a man worthy of being called Skywalker’s Heir.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 2018: Update! I'm tweaking this a little bit to make it slightly more TLJ canon-ish. Just a few word changes in the chapters, nothing major.
> 
> 2017: Greetings! Thanks for taking a look-see at this outrageous idea I started back in Feb. 2016. I didn’t make much progress on it, as I abandoned it for some of the other fics you see on my profile. I love a good soap-opera-y amnesia plot, so I thought I’d dabble at it again.
> 
> So, Ben’s memory is not so good. He thinks Rey might have been his girlfriend, but he might be remembering the time they spent in each other’s minds. For this story, I imagined that when he said “you dream of an ocean” in TFA they were at her dream ocean metaphysical/spiritually together. Only Amnesia-Ben thinks it was physically real. So, he’s confusaled, and it’s going to make everything complicated between him and Rey later.
> 
> =
> 
> Archive Warning – as four years have passed since the First Order’s fall, because of Carrie’s passing [RIP Our Princess Forever], in this story I’m going to write that Leia has passed, too. For those who are sensitive, and I know I am, I’m not going into any graphic details.

There are moments you remember your entire life. This was Ben’s. Or one them, rather.

During that fateful day, life in prison had been business as usual. The usual toil stamping out the metal for artificial limbs. The oh-so-endless time spent alone inside his cell, with nothing but the company of his thoughts. Thoughts and glimpses of memories he could almost recall. Not quite. Although he could not piece them together, they were never ceasing, like lines marked on a wall. Not this wall. A wall long ago, somewhere far away. 

He spent just as many countless moments staring at his assigned number. The one tattooed boldly in black ink on the inside of his wrist. It counted him as a prisoner. It marked him as one of many in a sea of lost causes.

He rolled up the sleeves of his off-white jumpsuit. Looking at his hands, Ben knew he had used them for something else once. Something more than the demands of prison work; the contract the institution held with the new government’s medical corps. His hands looked so empty, and yet so powerful. He couldn’t remember. He thought that they should be covered with dark gloves. He didn’t like his scars, the strange burn marks that decorated his hands. Sometimes they repulsed him.

Without warning, two guards opened his cell door. Their faces were solemn, navy uniforms neatly starched, and boots shining. They were armed. This was most unusual. No one came to see him. He’d done nothing wrong. Not today, anyways.

They said, they claimed, he was a war criminal. It was the reason he was here.

“Are you Prisoner 1138?” The first guard demanded.

“Yes,” Ben respectfully held his hands, not daring to move from his familiar seat on his prison small cot. It wasn’t like he could lie about the dark number inked on his body. It was the only name he remembered anymore. A constant companion, like a shadow, or the red light in his dreams.

“Come with us,” the other guard pushed him up by the shoulder, “There’s a very important visitor here with some questions for you.”

Ben obeyed. Together the guards bound and secured his hands and led him down a long cold hallway. They seemed to fear him, although Ben made no effort to resist. After numerous twists and turns, they led him into an interrogation room. Ben froze as odd fragments of memory flashed before his eyes. He had been in an interrogation room before. Many times. The guards didn’t allow him time to ponder the sudden glimpses of his past. They shoved him forward and quickly made to strap him into the empty chair.

“Is this damn-well necessary?” Ben furiously growled as he felt a pocket of rage urge him to fight back. The guards tensed and reached for their weapons. At once Ben regretted his forceful tone. There were moments he was capable of being so strangely short-tempered. He wasn’t sure where it came from, stress from his past life, perhaps. There were only fleeting memories of those days. He could recall being very angry.

He relaxed and compliantly allowed them to bind him. Although such measures did feel rather ridiculous. He had no plans to hurt anyone. A visitor, a bizarre mystery, was a welcomed break from the mundane quiet of his cell.

“Like we told you, 1138,” the pushy guard explained again, “Someone very important has some questions for you today. It’s in your best interests to cooperate. We can’t risk that you’d hurt her.”

 _Her_ , Ben wondered inside his head. Bells rang in his subconscious. His mystery visitor was a woman?

In his shattered memory, he recalled having a mother. At least during childhood. She had been equal parts strong and sweet. Both in-command, but quick with her knowing smile. However, he was always a small boy during those fleeting thoughts his mind struggled to recreate. He felt, though he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t seen her in quite some time. He couldn’t fathom the reason.

The only other woman he recalled knowing was a beautiful girl with triple hair buns. She was his most vivid memory of the past. He assumed, by the way her image haunted him, plagued his dreams so intensely, they were lovers. He remembered being with her beside an ocean. At night, when he struggled to sleep on his compact, uncomfortable cot against memories of a raging red light, he thought of his time there with her. His senses filled with the lapping waves and warm, salty breeze against an endless orange sky. Seemingly, he had surprised her. The look on her face, the shock in the memory, she hadn’t expected him to be there. He couldn’t remember more. He hoped he had expressed his feelings. Held his hands open and embraced her as he did in his imagination.

The door opened again, and the woman in question appeared. The guards saluted her. Ben’s mouth dropped as he blinked with astonishment. He would recognize her anywhere. The girl of his memories. The girl of his dreams. Had he beckoned her into life? Undoubtedly this was another fantasy. He had died in his sleep, only to be reborn with the opportunity to see her again.

She was young, perhaps ten years his junior, with a pretty confidence in her eyes. Her mouth was sincere, but somehow Ben knew those lips held carefully guarded secrets. Her dark hair seemed all wrong when compared to his vivid memories. Her new style was too formal. In her decorated, white military uniform, purple sash across her torso, complete with tall black boots, she seemed strangely changed. She would intimidate individuals who did not know her, as he knew her. Gone was the fierce, young girl. She was a woman now. Professional. In charge of herself and everyone around her.

He stared at her in an astonished stupor. Ben’s heart battled opposing emotions. On the one hand, he was proud of what she had become despite some hardship he knew she had endured. On the other hand, he swelled with envy that he had not overseen such a change in her person. It made no sense. Either way, he despised the baffling gap between their last meeting and now. Between their last connection and whatever spat divided them, caused her to flourish without him.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” she stood straight and greeted the guards with a slight smile. There was a rare strength and purity to her demeanor. Out of respect, in her honor, both guards gave small bows of their heads. The pushy one flushed, clearly nervous in her presence. Ben considered, perhaps she was a princess. Her accent was perfect. Surely she was much too young to be general. The First Order had fallen almost four years ago, making her a teenager at the time. Unless she’d been especially heroic in battle.

“This is the prisoner assigned as 1138?” She clarified, looking Ben over. Her eyes took him in from head to toe, seeking, and judging something. Ben felt slightly embarrassed, as though transformed into merchandise for sale. Would she care for him now? In this pitiful state? He was scruffy-looking, bearded, and not at all prepared to meet her gaze as a gentleman. Did she find him lacking? 

“Yes, ma’am. He certainly claims to be,” the guard smiled, his tone bordering on flirtation. Immediately, the breach of proper conduct raised Ben’s ire. She was beautiful, but the man was on the job. Forgoing the fact she was clearly out of the fool’s league.

She ignored the guard’s tone and walked a hand’s touch away from Ben. She tilted her head and stared into his eyes, continuing to search him, her face full of unanswered questions. Consequently, she got down to business and asked him one. She wasn’t here to waste time.

“Do you remember a scavenger from Jakku? A girl named Rey?”

Ben tensed. None of it rang any bells.

“I wish,” was his immediate response, and then he changed it to clarify the truth. “No.” 

The confusion that crossed her face was understandable. Ben needed to explain himself. “Forgive me,” he knitted his brow in frustration, “I have problems with my memory. I’m sure…I have seen you before. But I know nothing of Jakku or Rey. Perhaps, I did once.”

She nodded, although the rest of her face remained unreadable.

“Were you an important part of the First Order?”

“I can’t be certain,” he hated to disappoint her. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. I don’t remember if I had an official title. I followed the First Order, and I commanded officers, but I don’t know much more than that.”

She frowned.

“May I approach you? I’d like to use the Force on your mind.”

The Force? He’d known it once. _Yes._ He remembered the Force. He’d been good at it, too.

He nodded. She came in close and then surprisingly, touched the deepest scar across his face. The one that ran across his eye and down his unshaven neck. Her fingers were warm against his forehead in the freezing forced air. Suddenly her eyes went distant. Present, but at the same time on another plane of existence. She read him like a book, well, what was left of him. The details were more of a puzzle now. A puzzle with pieces missing.

“Did you ever call yourself…Kylo Ren?” She seemed further distracted by the strange moniker. He got the feeling there was a slight bitterness by the change in her tone. Something about that name displeased her.

The name Ben had often lingered in the back of his mind. He liked the name, even if there was no one left to tell him if it was actually his or not.

“Ben, perhaps” he admitted, “But now that you mention it something about Ren sounds correct, too.”

She seemed pleased. Her fingertips grazed his scar again. Perhaps it was the Force flowing through her that soothed him. Her touch was soft and reassuring. He felt nothing but calm in her presence.

She remained polite, but curious as she asked, “Where did you get this terrible scar, Ben?”

He didn’t have an answer for her. It saddened him to disappoint her yet, again. For all he knew he’d been born with the terrible mark. Although, that didn’t feel like the right answer. Surely, it had to be a battle scar.

“War is hell, my lady,” was all he could muster in return.

She didn’t hesitate, “That it is. But I wonder, was it during a fight? Do you ever recall being in a lightsaber battle?”

He still didn’t know. 

“I knew the Force once,” was all he could explain.

She blinked, taken aback by his odd statement. “You don’t know it now?”

He guessed by her shock that he should have.

“No, I guess it left me, or I don’t remember any more. I only recall,” he struggled, “Glimpses of using it long ago.”

“Very strange,” she slipped away again. She seemed more determined than ever. Reaching further through the Force. He regretted he didn’t have clear answers. He hoped she found whatever she was seeking. He wished the smile would return to her lovely face.

Suddenly, he blurted, “Would it help if I told you there was a red light? It sounds insane.” He struggled and then cleared his befuddled mind, admitting, “I was angry, dressed in black.”

Her eyes remained closed, her eyelids fluttering with her whole face strained in concentration. She pushed deep. Ben could no longer stand the strength of her energy. He pushed back. With the exertion, he found himself returned to the memory of the ocean.

Her face returned again to the present. She paused to stare deep into his eyes, pupils dilating as she took in a deep breath. She was dazzling. Always had been. _His lover._

“It is you,” her mouth lifted slightly. It wasn’t exactly a smile. More like a boost of self-confidence. Her eyes lingered on him a second more and then she motioned to the guards. “Contact the transport. Our Master Skywalker will be overjoyed to have him back.”

“Glory and Goodness to Our Master Skywalker!” The guards agreed, their bravo over-the-top to impress her.

She faced Ben once more. With a grand ceremonious wave of her hand, she undid his binds, “You’re going home, Ben. To your uncle.”

His uncle? Yes, he did recall having an uncle. A wizened, bearded uncle named Luke, a kind, but stern man. A weight lifted from Ben’s shoulders like chains breaking to ground. He was free? He could leave this cell. Walk out of here and return home to Luke. Even though he hadn’t seen the man in years, it didn’t matter. They had been close once. Any home was better than prison.

“You may not recall, but your name is Ben Solo,” she finally freed him and offered her hand to help him up, “Your uncle is Our Master Skywalker. He’s been searching for you since the beginning of the fall of the First Order.”

Ben blinked. His uncle was the _Our Master Skywalker?_ The ordained ruler of the galaxy? That was impossible! A tremendous weight fell over Ben. He tried to breathe. How could he not remember such an important detail? How had his uncle gained such political power? He’d been a simple, humble teacher with few material possessions! Never warlike, always so calm and reserved in Ben’s memory.

What else didn’t he remember? What huge details would be thrown at him without warning?

When the First Order fell, a new sovereignty had risen. Everyone knew that. Ben was the living proof of the fall, plucked from wreckage with no identification, sent to a medical unit, and, later, stuck in prison for his apparent war crimes. It was hard to fathom, all these years, he had repeated the oath, _“All hail, Our Master Skywalker,”_ each morning for his breakfast. When the whole time it had been his own uncle behind the phrase. Evidently, this was another one of his ludicrous dreams. Like the red light, and even more haunting one where a skull-like helmet spoke to him. At least this time he’d had the decency to imagine his sweetheart in the preposterous mix. Maybe his mental health was improving.

Her hand was still waiting for him, outreached. Her eyes were kind. The sweetest gesture, one he didn’t feel he rightly deserved. Dream or not, he couldn’t help but place his hand against hers.

She was soft, but her grasp was firm. Warm. Real. Trembling slightly from the exhaustion of the probe. So, he told himself, it wasn’t a dream.

Although the concept of being free was astonishing, Ben had a bad feeling that Luke was going to kill him for something he didn’t exactly recall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben takes some missteps as a free man, literally and romance-wise.
> 
> *Forewarning, he experiences heartache ahead. He learns about his mother's passing. After he kisses Rey, she drops a bombshell why they can't be together. Ends with him very upset.
> 
> Will have HEA, stay tuned.

Ben knew it was too good to be true.

He seemed to remember an old saying about out of the ashes and into the fire. Although he couldn’t remember who taught him such a saying. Some other paternal figure from his past, perhaps.

He had taken the girl’s hand. She had led him down the hallway, his heart hammering at the silent intimacy of the innocent touch. The hand that held his did so out of a simple, child-like gesture of friendship. However, in her touch, he felt more warmth and affection than he had known in years. He never wanted to let go of her small, slender hand. He felt he content to follow her anywhere so long as she held on. She had freed him. _Free._ The thought still didn’t seem real. At any moment he would wake from this vivid, lucid dream and be alone again. Alone until the guards made him repeat the pledge of loyalty to Skywalker, gave him the square meal, and presented him with a new pile of metal to toil over. Walking away, being with her again, no matter how simple, this was _freedom_.

Then she let go.

He might have tensed, sucked in his breath softly in protest.

Either way, it was enough for her to turn back to him with compassion and explain.

“There are things to prepare,” she smiled, staring up at him. “I need to send a report ahead of our arrival for clearance purposes. Go ahead to the transport.” She touched his shoulder, causing a slow-burn to ignite across Ben’s flesh, as she added, “I’ll only be a moment.”

He hardly knew what to do anymore without a strict order to follow. Who was she, that she trusted him so? For the past four years, all others had looked at him with contempt. Before that, fear.

He knew he had to shield himself now or he’d be even more in love with this mysterious girl he remembered so little about. He reasoned, perhaps she was friendly with everyone. He couldn’t let himself hope that she still cared about him. Had he been a fool and ended their tryst? He was slightly thankful he didn’t remember. He couldn’t bear it. What fool could break such a vibrant creature’s heart?

Staring down at her, he nodded. “Thank you,” was all that he could think to say. _Do you still love me? I love you,_ hardly seemed appropriate standing in the cold hallway amid the offices of the prison wardens.

So he turned and left, taking weighted, painful steps away from her. He forced himself to focus. Yes, he needed to clear his mind. Soon his spirit lifted as he reminded himself this was his first steps as a lone, free man. He would march to the transport. No, he decided, marching was for prisoners. He would run. He hadn’t had the opportunity to run, full-stride, in years. It felt brilliant. Exhilarating. His muscles were conscious of their capability again. He was free! He could go anywhere. Do anything! His life was his own once more! He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been taught, but he thanked the Heavens, the Force, the ancient Whills, and Our Master Skywalker, for the opportunity to begin again. Today he would start his life over new.

Later, he considered, there was the possibility that his manic running through the prison halls might have alerted the guards. They were trained, after all, to suspect anything out of the ordinary. Therefore, as he reached the front of the hanger door, a horde of them tackled him to the ground. Straightaway he was tased into unconsciousness. He gave into the darkness.

He woke to the savage sound of her glorious voice, a light shining over him.

“No, absolutely not!” She demanded, undoing his new set of cuffs.

Apparently, he’d been taken aboard the transport ship as a prisoner. For the second time in one day, he’d been strapped to a chair.

Here she was, rushing to his rescue again. His angelic hero in a white uniform. He rather thought the purple sash brought out the tiny highlights in her irises.

“This man is not our prisoner! Who informed you to take him here instead of private quarters?”

Ben noticed she was cute when she was righteously angry, her teeth flashed. Her intensity did nothing to cease his growing desire. Had she ever shown him such passion? He wished beyond anything he could recall.

The man standing watch looked sheepish. He feebly tried to explain, “Your Grace, you’ve confirmed this is Kylo Ren. Surely, some form of security is in order. For your own protection.”

Kylo Ren, there was that name again. Oddly familiar.

She shook her head. “No, I guess I should have seen to this myself. Our Master Skywalker has called his nephew home as a guest, not a prisoner. Don’t make the mistake ever again.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the man bowed.

“Ben,” she offered her hand to him again. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to be so fortunate to feel her touch twice in the last several hours, but he wasn’t complaining. She folded her fingers over his and continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t make myself clear.” She darted her eyes to the guard and back to him. “We’re going to see your uncle. This time I’ll keep you in sight. You must want something other than prison food.”

He rose, not daring to pull his fingers from her grasp. “I’ve been without the luxury a long time.” In fact, he could remember little else.

“Well, then,” her eyes danced with something akin to warmth and joy, “We can remedy that.”

Consequently, he found himself seated across from her, in front of a meal he considered extremely lavish compared to the bland, square meals of the prison. The blue exotic porcelain plate place in front of him contained a variety of minced vegetables and legumes in a sweet, tangy sauce. He ate slowly, although, had he been alone, he would have lifted the plate to his mouth and raked the entire dish forward at an alarming speed. Assessing they were, most likely, in one of her private chambers, his imagination ran wild. In contrast to the white walls of his cell, he experienced sensory overload. He felt keenly aware of every detail: the strange wood grain pattern of the table, the small bouquet of freshly cut flowers, a gold statue of some old Jedi monk with large ears that would have fit in his palm, and the round orb-like lights that graced the walls with their soft glow. The walls themselves: a fresh green that reminded him of a forest. He had been to many forests, from snowy to tropical. He didn’t know why. His time with the First Order, perhaps.

More importantly, he was intensely conscious of every move she made. From the movement of her hands as she sliced the vegetables into smaller portions, to how many bites she took, the way she chewed, and her posture. She eyed his glass of water from time to time, concerning herself with his comfort. If she only knew how her presence eased his troubled mind!

Watching her lift her utensil to her mouth, he envisioned himself lifting across the table, and kissing her with all the passion he’d built up during their four-year separation. So much time had wasted! He fought and struggled and finally gave into the daydream of carrying her in his arms to bed for the remainder of the night. Or the remainder of their trip. Whichever lasted longer. In his lonely dreams, he’d had quite a lot of time to experiment and decide precisely how happy he’d make her.

Instead, he pulled the cold glass of water to his lips, believing it was the purest he ever recalled tasting. He swallowed, reminding himself this was dinner. Only dinner. They weren’t a couple. At least, not anymore. He shouldn’t allow such fantasies to continue without clearing the air between them.

It was her, he decided. She had ended it between them. There was no other explanation. He wouldn’t feel this strongly otherwise. She had rejected him, somehow. There was something about his character, behavior, or actions she found too flawed. His heart might have been shattered in the past. However, in four years time, he hadn’t gotten over the memories, as blurry as they were. 

Hardly full, but unable to endure any more silent dining, he cleared his throat and asked, “You’ve given me my name. What do I call you? Your Grace?”

“Oh,” she broke from some far-off reverie. “No. That’s much too formal. We’re,” she struggled for the right term, and changed her mind, “We’ve been connected for too long for that. Rey will do.”

“Rey.” Ben recalled her question from earlier, “A scavenger from Jakku?”

She avoided his gaze a moment, returning to her thoughts. “Yes. I was there quite a long time.”

Feeling he should change the subject to a more current topic, Ben asked, “How is my uncle?”

Her mouth lifted, eyes bright as she considered Our Master Skywalker. “He’s wonderful. In good health. Through funding from melting down the First Order armory, he just successfully created free academies on all the core worlds. Others will follow. Tatooine’s a project very close to his heart. We’re getting near to having a universal moisture system there.”

Ben stared at her in wonder. “Academies,” he repeated. The word felt heavy. His uncle had been a humble teacher once. Ben had spent a great deal of time being angry with him. He hoped the past was forgiven, faded and forgotten, as his memory.

“Will he be pleased to see me?” He had to know.

“Course,” her face filled with concern, “You truly don’t remember?”

His face filled with heat. Of all the damned things, all the time he had dreamt, he didn’t want to disappoint her. He didn’t want her to see him as less of a man. A damaged creature, no, a newborn child with a blank slate of a mind. He hated being ignorant. Frustration coiled across his nerves. Why couldn’t he recall back at will? Why did certain visions haunt him, while essential details remained a mystery?

She continued, “The battle with the Supreme Leader…you saved us. You were the true definition of a hero, Ben. It was madness. Chaos all around us. Our friends thought they had recovered you. They were wrong. In four years, we’ve had about two-dozen leads, each I personally investigated myself. Pleased is an understatement. You were like a son to him once. His blood heir.”

“And my mother?” He suddenly wondered since he was on the subject of family.

Rey sat her utensil down slowly. The far-off look returned to her eyes. She frowned, blinked, brow furrowed with distress. Suddenly, she pushed herself back from the table and stood. “Are you finished?” She indicated his half-eaten plate.

His answer was no, but he desperately wanted to understand the quick change in her entire countenance. She seemed to be holding back while holding strong. By delaying her answer, Ben sensed something was wrong. Something had happened. Long ago, he had been the bearer of bad news.

Rey stood and took his hand with a familiar ease. Just as swiftly, she led him into the next room, her personal study, and showed him to a white chaise longue in the corner. Ben lowered himself, wishing the strange couch weren’t so close to the floor, making him feel gigantic and out of place among her elegant collection of belongings. Across the room stood a curved desk with a marble top and holo projector, rows of shelves with a variety of exotic flowers and plants gathered from across the galaxy, a wall of locked cabinets, and a ground fountain that filled the whole room with the sound of running water. He held his hands, watching his love peer into a cabinet drawer she unlocked by tapping a long code with the drumming of her fingers.

Finally, with her back to still to him, she held up and examined a small, intricately carved jewelry box. She opened it to be sure.

Somehow, Ben knew instantly, even at a distance, it was his mother’s wedding ring. He knew intuitively his mother was never without it.

His foreboding gave way to heartbreak. He knew what she wanted to tell him. Her answer. She didn’t have to say it. He knew. Somehow, he had felt and known along.

He stood, nearly stumbling as his knees threatened to buckle. He lost feeling, save for the scream in his mind that wanted to deny and fight the truth. Powerless, his entire body shivered uncontrollably in response. There was nothing he could do. His mother was gone.

The next few hours blurred. Rey rushed to his side, gently placing the ring inside his hands and blanketing them with her own. She didn’t speak at first. There were no words. She sensed his anguish and gave into her own despair. The memory of what she wanted to say too painful.

“Ben,” was all she could manage through her tear stained face. It was enough. Rey’s effort, knowing how she’d loved his mother, made all the difference. They stood that way for a long time.

His mother was a hero. He knew it. He didn’t need to know more than that.

With his thumb, he began wiping away Rey’s tears as he allowed his own to flow. Rey embraced him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling her head to his heart as she trembled. The room had grown cold around them. Together, they both ended back on the chaise, holding each other as fresh waves of grief racked their hearts, minds, and memories.

As time passed the pain gave way to exhaustion, numbing Ben in and out of a fitful rest, only to wake him to the same loss.

Rey kept herself close, smoothed his hair from his weary face, repeating, “I know. Ben, I know.” She felt it, too.

In an effort to ground himself, Ben didn’t release his grasp on the ring, the beautiful symbol of love. He only remembered two women in his life, his mother and the woman beside him. He loved them both.

Suddenly, he felt the desperate need to convey his feelings to the one he had left. He had waited forever in prison. And, yet, if he only had this moment, he’d be a fool to waste any second.

He looked at her, eyelids heavy, face swollen from crying. How could he put his feelings into words and make her understand his sentiment, since before he could remember, went beyond compassion for her? He could no longer tell her when it happened or how it happened. He only knew he loved her.

At a loss, he instead felt compelled to show her. Involuntarily shaking, he leaned his face forward, eyeing her lips intensely. He darted his gaze to her pupils, which were wide, knowing what he intended. Slowly, he pressed closer, giving her time to reject his advance. She didn’t stir. Would she be his again?

His lips met hers. She didn’t kiss back at first. He pressed and backed away, once, twice, until on his third try they met in a rapturous unison.

He found a peace, perhaps, he’d never known. He couldn’t change the past. But they could move forward, making things right, now and in the future. His mother, she would want them to be together and happy. United, they would ensure the galaxy never forgot her sacrifice. Perhaps, even bless her legacy with grandchildren.

Overcome, his mouth traced a passionate, heated trail down Rey’s neck.

She became tense and soon drew back, “Ben, I can’t.” She stopped his hands.

His ragged breath across her collarbone was a weighted question. He couldn’t form words. He withdrew to look into her eyes again and understand her reaction.

She covered her face with her palms an instant, before lowering them with her explanation and fresh anguish, “Ben, I’m practically engaged.”

With her confession, what little still remained of his heart, shattered.

Without knowing what he was doing, he was on his feet pacing, knotting one hand through his hair. The other still clasping ahold of his mother’s ring.

_Lies._ Why couldn’t everything revealed to him today just be lies? Why had she plucked him out of nowhere, nothingness, with no memory, only to torture him with painful truths?

“A lot happened between Snoke’s throne room and now. I know, I guess, you can’t remember from before. What we experienced. Your offer to me…”

“As it should be,” he stopped pacing and tried to bare the rejection like a gentleman. “I understand now. The past is only that. Thank you for enlightening me. For freeing me. Concerning yourself with my grief. If you’ll show me to my quarters now, I’ll leave you in peace for the remainder of our journey.”

“Ben,” she rose from her seat, “I want to help you. I want you to stay with me. Just don’t take this wrong way. I have responsibilities...So much as changed.”

He could no longer listen.

“I can’t stay with you,” he admitted. “I can’t be here with you, like this.”

“Ben,” she repeated his name.

Emotions boiling over, he muttered, “Goodnight, Your Grace,” and stormed from her quarters into an empty hallway.

He had only taken a few steps before he heard the door behind him slide open. She meant to follow him. He halted, but didn’t turn. Facing her would make the pain unbearably worse.

“Ben,” she approached carefully, her hand second-guessing the right to touch him on the shoulder. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. I know you’re hurting. I feel it. Stay with me.”

He sighed. She asked the impossible.

“I promised Luke I would find you and see you safely to him.”

His whole body tensed. This was mostly about pity and Skywalker, he thought.

“I regret I cannot grant your request. I need solitude to collect my thoughts and be alone with my grief. My entire world has changed in the last few hours.”

Rey gently nodded, although her tone conveyed her disappointment, “You’ll find the room to your right empty.”

Ben moved, pressing the button on the door. He told himself he should not care if she stood by and watched him leave. There was nothing he could do about her choices.

“Ben,” she stopped him again.

He halted. It was almost uncontrollable, his need to hear her.

“You mother loved you,” her voice struggled, “She was right about you. There is so much good in you. The light.”

His heart swelled, although he couldn’t fathom her entire meaning. He left her and pressed the door closed.

He laid in duel-agony for the remainder of their flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, back in Feb 2016, not much happened between prison and Skywalker's Palace. So I rewrote it to be more dramatic and add even more issues for Ben and Rey later on.
> 
> I did my best to handle Leia's passing with great care, thinking back to when my father died. I miss Carrie and her humor so much. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben wakes and views Skywalker's Palace from the air. Rey enters his room and he decides he's going to fight for her love.

A soft beam of light broke through the port window of the chamber Ben had claimed. They had reached the planet’s atmosphere, nearing the new capital city. _Our Master Skywalker. Freedom. Double Heartbreak._ A new morning of a life Ben did not recognize.

He rose from the corner bed although his entire body protested with exhaustion. Unable to rest easy for more than a few minutes at a time with memories and regrets plaguing his mind, he felt grateful for a distraction. He stretched his arms over his head, breathing deeply in and out. What sort of view waited for him from the window?

From the air, he spotted his uncle’s palace in the middle of a pristine city surrounded by gardens and a large reflective lake that sparkled in the sunlight. Despite his sorrow, Ben found the courage to lift his mouth into a half smile, the view taking his mind off his cares a mere second. Somehow he knew the cathedral, with its unusual appearance, matched his uncle’s personality. While many monarchs had castles of gold, Skywalker’s official residence resembled a simple monastery built from a mixture of sand to form bricks. All save for the roofs, the belfries, and cupolas of the tall turrets that were formed from the purest, shining blue crystal glass Ben had ever seen. It gave the building a sense of openness and transparency Ben liked immediately. He knew without seeing; the glass would let in an enormous amount of natural light. He could see himself at home in such a place. On the highest spire, the symbol of the old Jedi Order flew with pride, waving from afar like an old friend, welcoming all. For a moment Ben felt an overwhelming sense of calm.

This would be his new life. Yes, he could find peace here. A presence he used to recall surrounded him. He could almost reach into it. Ask it to do his will.

Perhaps this is the Force, he considered. 

The thought was immediately disturbed by his love, who returned to cast him into renewed throes of confused yearning. She tapped gently on the door and before he could turn to answer, entered the room with a suit of clothes in her hands. She was fully dressed. Hair all wrong again. Although dark circles graced her eyes, having slept just as poorly, Ben found her every measure as beautiful as every memory he’d ever had. He considered what it would be like to see her every morning in this casual way, in this intimate light. To find her waiting in his room. He bit the inside of his mouth, knowing it could never be. He had to kill that thought.

She had a fiancé.

_The galaxy’s luckiest bastard,_ Ben growled inside his head.

He stared, scarcely knowing what to say. She glanced at him quickly, her lips parted with questions, but then she looked away again. Her confidence from the day before had evaporated. Clearly embarrassed by the memory of their kiss and his forwardness, her expression matched his sorrow. He could almost feel her heart race with anxiety. He tried not to hope she regretted pushing him away. Or that she wished she had woken in his arms.

No, the light made everything clear.

Compassion ignited in his soul. He wouldn’t allow her to suffer for his sake. He decided at once he could still love her from afar. He could repay her kindness. Destroy the discomfort he had recklessly created. He wanted her to look at him without shame.

“The palace is beautiful,” he indicated with a mournful, trying smile. “I feel like I’m dreaming, Your Grace.”

She shook her head, “I told you to call me Rey.” Still frowning, she got down to business, “We land in ten. I brought you some clothes.”

His eyes lingered on the blue material in her hands. He wondered why she had a set of men’s clothing in her possession and formed an answer he hated. He tasted bile in his throat. Surely she wouldn’t be so bold as to give him her fiancé’s hand-me-downs. He could stomach rejection, not mockery. His compassion only extended so far.

She seemed to interpret the question in his mind by the horrified look on his face.

“These," her face bore a bittersweet expression as she traced a seam with her finger feeling the smoothness of the material, “Are modeled after a traditional suit from Alderaan. They were found in your mother’s belongings. I had them stored away in one of my cabinets for safe-keeping. I’m afraid, other than guard uniforms, they’re the only clothing on board that could fit you.” She eyed his height, and finally her eyes lingered on his a second more.

“Alderaan,” he breathed. He knew the name well, but not the place.

“I,” she took small steps and thrust the clothes forward, “We shouldn’t allow the people of the palace to see you as a prisoner, Ben. You’re a free man. Skywalker’s blood heir. I thought these would make a good impression. Showcase your heritage. Remind the galaxy you weren’t always Kylo Ren.”

As his hands touched hers in the exchange, she jolted. Surprised by her abrupt movement, he caught her wrist in concern. His mind raced, desperate to understand what had pained her. Foremost, he wanted to protect her. Then their eyes met again, and he realized, she was stunned by his touch. By him.

He felt strangely connected. A thought formed in his mind, and it seemed as though she had literally whispered a secret in his ear.

_“I want Ben to wear these.” An echo lingered. She’d had the thought years ago as she placed the clothes in storage._

Despite Ben’s exhaustion and heartache, the knowledge spread a full smile across his mouth. Completely enraptured, he dared to confirm, “You want me to wear this. To see me in this.” His voice placing particular emphasis the subjects _you_ and _me_.

He gently released her wrist and immediately began unzipping his prison jumpsuit. He had to know, was she so attracted, would she stay and watch? Practical fiancé be damned. Ben felt heat in his blood. He could win her heart again. A million dreams would not be wasted. She was pleased by the thought of him wearing this suit. And he wanted to her to be pleased.

A fire could be rekindled in ten minutes. Else Skywalker could wait a few more moments.

He watched as her gaze quickly darted over his bare chest and away, reddening.

“Rey,” he blurted. He had to make her see. She shouldn’t be ashamed. He loved her. She needed to search her feelings before she made her choice and married someone else. He could help her be certain. 

“Put the suit on, Ben,” she said all at once and rushed from his room, the door swiftly closing behind her.

He let the jumpsuit fall to the floor.

The sound of the zipper tag making impact with the ground might as well have been an ion cannon blast. 

Ben was convinced of her feelings for him. _Yes,_ the mystical power had told him. A power they shared. He knew now, she wanted to reconcile their relationship, too. Her explanation from the night before, the word _responsibilities_ weighed heavy on his mind.

_Conflict._ Conflict in her heart was good. 

He had been a warlord once. For four years he’d been punished as a war criminal. Between himself and her fool, clog of a fiancé, the favor of Rey’s love was a war he was certain now he could win.

As he pulled the shirt on, he reasoned, someone who loved her would be here with her. Any decent man would have married her already.

Stepping into the pants, his eye caught on his mother’s ring. During his fitful exhaustion he had finally placed the precious piece on the center of the nightstand, lest he collapse and lose his beloved heirloom. He would keep it with him always.

Then an idyllic thought struck his brain, surrounding him through and through.  
One day, very soon, Rey would wear his mother’s ring as _Mrs. Ben Solo. Wife. Owner of his heart forever._

And he would keep them both with him always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another new scene, driving my NaNoWriMo word count forward! I'll probably post one more chapter on this and then switch to other fics in my account that haven't been updated in a while ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ben sees his very chill Uncle Luke again, learns Rey will be his Master now, she is an orphan princess with marriage stipulations, and he just so happens to be a prince.

The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the aerial view. Looking up at the tall cathedral ceilings Ben felt all the more small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the galaxy. He was a mere speck, both lost and found, floating through life with little memory. Like an asteroid burning thin among brighter stars.

What would Our Master Skywalker say? What would his uncle think of him now?

As Ben ruminated over feelings and shattered recollections he could almost see in his mind’s eye, he was also distracted by the light shining through the crystal panels in waves. It was glorious, the way the gleam danced over the white marble floors. Warm. Safe. Peaceful. They might have been under the ocean, an indoor paradise with curling breaks of blue. Skywalker’s haven.

It was almost as radiant as the young woman who led the way, her hand firmly pulling his forward. They were almost running. Her boots squeaked across the floors. Her hair swayed back and forth as though shaking her finger at him. _Don’t fall in love again._

She’d told him not to take the hand holding personally. Moments before, standing in the comparably dull hanger bay, nerves had gotten the better of him. Apprehension seeped through his sporadic mind. He couldn’t remember how to act, how to hold his head proud. These clothes, they pleased her, but they were not his own. His stomach churned. The bold scar on his face burned just like the red light in his dreams. He pressed his hand over the pocket where he had secured his mother’s ring. Light-headed, he’d slid his back down the hanger wall until he was crouching on the floor.

_“Did you eat anything?”_ Her voiced sounded underwater.

He thought he nodded no.

She cared, she did. She lowered herself beside him. When he refused to go back onboard for a small meal, she took his hands in her own. Her touch made all the difference. The last thing he needed was to be sick in front of the uncle whose judgment today mattered. He thought she promised they would dine again after speaking to Skywalker.

For all the majesty and elegance of the palace, the actual throne room was quite simple. His uncle did not sit on a chair of precious gold. Rather, he didn’t require a chair at all. He sat cross-legged, robed in white, on a large silk cushion. His eyes were closed, and his face was placid. As Rey often had, his uncle looked a thousand miles away. Behind him stood a twisted but vibrant, mature tree with plenty of room for centuries to grow as tall and wide as needed. The guards, most of them strapping young Wookies, sat relaxed on smaller cushions against the walls.

Rey and Ben rapidly approached the center of the room. Rey headed straight for empty cushions placed in front of his uncle for his court, his audience. Although Rey was still pulling him forward, Ben stopped. After all this time and the anger, he felt unworthy of seating himself so casually. Instead, he stooped down before the cushion, dropping into a makeshift kneel. Rey looked slightly embarrassed for him, but, ultimately, bowing in front of Our Master Skywalker felt right.

_A knight. Orders. Service._ That’s who Ben was before.

Skywalker didn’t stir.

“Master,” Rey soft tone broke the silence.

His uncle didn’t flinch, did not open his eyes, but calmly spoke, “What was lost, has been found.” Then his mouth formed an almost boyish smile, “Ben Solo.”

“Yes,” Rey glanced at Ben, motioned for him to rise, and seated herself on the nearest cushion. “He lives. He’s with us, again.”

Ben wanted to speak for himself. Being talked about in third-person gave him the strangest feeling. The hairs on his neck stood on end. After all this time, he didn’t know what to say.

“I would know that light anywhere. You mustn’t fear, nephew,” Skywalker indicated the cushion beside Rey with a graceful wave of his hand.

Obediently, Ben seated himself. Although it did not feel right. He looked at Rey’s profile for courage and back at his uncle. They were all equals here. Ben found it very unusual.

“You don’t remember,” his uncle seemed to sense everything.

“No, Master,” Ben whispered, his shame renewed.

“I see the solution is simple, Rey will be your Master now and relearn you what you have unlearned. I believe your memories will return to you in time.”

“Master!” Rey stood in protest. Ben looked at her in horror, his heart pounding. She shook her head, “I regret there’s no time! If I’m to find my consort this year, I must…Prince Hunton-Blather’s ship is due to arrive in days. The proper introduction. The party. The ball. The official announcement.”

“You will find a way. You always do,” Skywalker reassured her.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Rey frowned, her tone clipped, “I have new things to prepare.” 

Ben swore he could sense cascades of regret seep from her concealed emotions. He quickly stood, aching, watching her walk swiftly away until she disappeared through the archway. She had left him. Had she left him for good? _Prince Hunton-Blather._ The name burned in his mind. His heart sank. Even with his uncle, the Wookies, and other beings in the room, he felt so terribly alone, again.

“My heir, she’s quite amazing. Isn’t she, Ben?” Skywalker, even though he would not open his eyes, knew his nephew was staring after Rey. Longing.

Ben whipped his gaze back on his uncle. He furrowed his brow, mind grieving that he could not understand. He needed to see all the pieces. He couldn’t remember meeting her the first time. No, and, yet, he hadn’t known her his entire life either. The ocean. _That ocean!_ She turned every time, shocked to see him. Surprise on her face. But he was there! He was there, and he understood, and he wanted to make her happy. Had he made her happy? _He couldn’t remember!_ Snow. _That damned red light._ Rejection! And then, again, he had been torn apart. _Fire!_ His hand was open. Trembling. What had she said? He loved her, that’s all he knew.

“Settle yourself,” Skywalker bid him sit again.

Ben shook his head, nerves on fire, head buzzing, and temples tight.

Skywalker allowed him to stand. He took a deep breath, feeling Ben’s pain and confusion, before he began again, “I knew you were alive…I regret, even if we’d found you sooner, I could not name you my heir, Ben, although you are my blood successor. The galaxy is not yet as forgiving as it should be. Rey, my last apprentice, is my spiritual heir in your place. I know you are not angered by this news, Ben. It is your heart that remains in torment.”

Ben fought the emotion in his eyes. Did his uncle truly know everything?

“She’s a princess, Ben. Even before I named her my heir, she’s of royal origin. When she revealed the truth about her birth parents and returned briefly to her home planet, I never thought she would be so adamant about following the ancient traditions of her family. As a monarch, her people require her to marry. However, the archaic requirements for her royal consort are rigorous. So few in the galaxy met the exact specifications.” 

Ben’s heart clenched. So she was lost to him?

Skywalker read his mind. “Her consort must be a governing prince. Human. Older. Taller. Decorated in battle. Educated, with his own income. At leisure to do great deeds in her honor.”

Ben laughed. It felt good for the tension to ease from his face.

“Five out of nine’s not bad,” Ben offered. He knew he was human, both older and taller than Rey. The scar on his face proved he had been decorated in battle, literally. He would do any deed for her. She would simply have to name the task.

“You’ve loved her all these years,” Skywalker stated with a smile.

Ben stared at him, “Do you object?”

“No, Ben,” his uncle said placidly. “Quite the opposite. I don’t believe Rey should make a hasty decision based on ancient traditions. Marry someone she doesn’t know based on a list of fool requirements.” Skywalker folded his hands. “So many of her friends died in the final battle. She hasn’t been the same since. I believe she should be courted by someone who knows her, who can understand her and the Force.”

“I,” Ben finally lowered himself on the cushion again, “I wish I remembered.”

“Rey will help you. She’s only overwhelmed. You’ve returned at exactly the right moment. Just when she thought everything was squared away in her life.”

Ben made a steeple with his fingers, “Would you allow me to court her?” He knew long ago his uncle had disapproved of a great many things he had done.

“That’s a question you should ask Rey. As for the ancient requirements of her people, as the spiritual prince of the late and beautiful Alderaan, you meet their peculiar list.”

“Prince?” Ben thought back.

“You completed your Day of Demand years ago,” his uncle gently reminded him.

Ben thought back. Yes, every year for his first fifteen years his family had memorialized the planet, sharing photos and reading names aloud. In his sixteenth year, the mourners’ eyes had turned to him. He couldn’t remember what he had said or done. Something about his body, mind, and heart. Apparently, whatever tasks he’d offered had been completed long ago.

_A Prince of the late Alderaan._

“I’ve never governed,” Ben frowned and thought despairingly.

Skywalker remained very still, but spoke reassuringly, “You were Master of the Knights of Ren, although you disobeyed me on that matter, I see now your rebellion had a purpose.”

“Knights of Ren…,” Ben hopelessly tried to recall.

His uncle’s smile was kind. “Until Rey prepares the training faculty, I suggest a trip to the archive, Ben. We have the largest collection of files in the galaxy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really tempted to add "the prince must be shredded" to the list of requirements, but maybe I'll save that line for later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's POV, her confused feeling about training Ben. Ben shows off, flirts.

_Ben Solo._

That was a name she’d nearly given up on, a long time ago.

The last three leads to his whereabouts had turned up false. Heartbreaking dead ends: an unknown soldier’s grave, a body donated to science, and a murdered gambler who sometimes used the strange alias Vader’s Son.

Rey had accepted long ago, that perhaps her Master Skywalker was merely clinging to hope Ben was still alive. True, Luke sensed the life force in the galaxy more intensely than she did. But he was human and still capable of denial in regards to a missing loved one.

She picked up a set of hand weights and placed them back on the training room’s disheveled stand. The room was an absolute wreck, strength training equipment scattered everywhere. She hadn’t had time to keep it tidy in the last few weeks, and she didn’t allow people to clean up after her. Everything was happening so quickly. From the small list of potential suitors who met the requirements, she had selected to meet Prince Hunton-Blather. His file was impeccable. On paper, his file sounded absolutely perfect. His family had funded the Resistance from the start. He’d brought down dozens of AT-M6 walkers with his keen flying.

Rey had made her mind up. If Prince Hunton-Blather seemed as nice as his profile was flawless, they’d be engaged by the end of the week. She didn’t have time for a long courtship. With Ben recovered and her training complete, she wanted to get her hands busy helping the people of her home planet. There was only so much the elders and senators of her planet would allow her to do as a mere princess. But as Queen, under Our Master Skywalker’s guidance in the Neo-Senate, the possibilities were nearly endless.

_Rey will be your Master now._

She curled a weight to ease her tension. How could she see Ben every day and not be bombarded by her old feelings?

She told herself he was happy to be free. It explained the soft look he always had on his face when he watched her. She had hoped to delay the conversation about his mother’s passing until they reached the palace. She thought his uncle, a family member, should be the one to tell him. But seeing the hopeful look on his face during dinner as he asked about his mother, Rey could not bear to keep him in the dark a moment longer. He had the right to be answered, and he needed a friend to lean on.

Their kiss was merely confusion.

She switched the weight to her other arm.

No, she admitted. Had she been free of responsibilities, if she hadn’t taken the oath to her people, to her family’s memory a year ago, if she hadn’t just contacted her people to contact Prince Hunton-Blather’s people, she would have made love to Ben Solo. Like she wanted to for years.

If only Alderaan still existed. If only he were truly a prince, a proper suitor by definition of her elders.

Taking the suit out of storage had been fanatical on her part. How many times had she looked at it over the years, wishing and daydreaming? How many times had she read those lines in his diary, over and over, falling in love with Ben a little more each time?

He was the reason she had taken up collecting items.

The things that could have been!

Even now the Force connected the two of them at random! Ben knew she wanted to see him in the suit along!

She lost her focus. She allowed the weight to drop, bounce, and roll on the rubber flooring until it halted on its own.

She couldn’t do this!

He wasn’t some toy figure she could dress up in a prince costume! Wishing it would not make it so! She was only torturing herself. Confusing him with her hot and cold interest. It was not becoming of a Jedi or a Princess. He had wanted her to stay, he had smiled completely enraptured, and started to undress in front of her. No matter how she stared at him, wanting to see more, they couldn’t be together. Blushing fiercely, she had forced herself to leave the room. Her mind at war with itself: her conscience screaming the reasons she couldn’t, her heart and body replying that she shouldn’t take someone she had formerly dreamed of sharing a life with for granted. Especially when she had thought him dead for so many years. Life only allowed so many chances. And, yet, her choices had already been set in motion.

He was throwing a wrench into everything. He always had! Volatile, sensitive creature whose actions remained a mystery. That gentle gaze that still simmered for her like that day she’d called him a monster in the Ahch-To rain.

How many times in the past had he asked her to leave with him?

_I can show you the ways of the Force!_

Then he had saved her from Snoke. By proxy, he had saved them all. The entire galaxy. He was a hero, and he couldn’t even remember.

But she knew! She knew, and she knew who he was before. They had bonded through their Force connection. Later, through her search for him, she’d returned to the rumble of Luke’s academy to look for clues and found his charred diary. She’d read his thoughts and feelings written as a young apprentice, falling helplessly for him all over again as she understood his struggle against the darkness. 

If given the chance, she could fill him in on everything. 

Suddenly she sensed his presence.

He knocked on the training room door. She jumped, felt embarrassed, then foolish. He didn’t have to knock. This was his training room now. When she married and left Skywalker’s Palace to take up full time residence on her home world, she imagined Ben would take over her old quarters as well. He was Skywalker’s blood heir after all. Rey so happened to feel he deserved the nicest view in the palace after staring at prison walls for so many years.

“You don’t have to knock!” She called.

He entered awkwardly, eyes roaming over the disorganized center of strength, exercise, and physical betterment. He had changed out of the suit, into a grey sleeveless tank and loose fitting black pants. Rey assumed he had found these in his new quarters. Else Skywalker had sent someone to purchase items for him. If Rey had the time, she would have taken him into the city herself.

It hurt to look at him. Rey’s breath caught as she fought against the intense attraction. Ben was still handsome, she admitted. Moreover, his arm muscles were showing. An impulse hit her. If she could touch him again, perhaps she could be content in her insanity. He didn’t seem real. After years of searching, she had the outrageous need to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. That he wasn’t some fantasy she’d invented to torture herself just when things couldn’t get any more hectic in her life.

His expression was sad. A little lost, too.

“It used to be tidy,” Rey shrugged, wishing she could lift the frown on his face. She knew he would be grieving his mother for many years to come.

_She loved you so much,_ Rey wanted but didn’t say. Would bringing up the truth hurt him more after an already excruciating day? She would tell him later, she promised, when he didn’t seem so overwhelmed and defeated by the confusion around him. She decided, she would personally take him to the memorial wall with the reflecting pool and fountain dedicated to his mother. He could hold a vigil or plan an annual service. Leia Organa Solo would never be forgotten. For years, she had been a legend to Rey, then a friend and mentor.

Peering into the soulful eyes of the lost man before her, Rey gave into her feelings. She vowed she would do her best to help him. Despite the direction her life was moving, she would try to be his friend and mentor now.

Rey smiled at him encouragingly, knowing Leia would have been overjoyed to have him home. Proud that he would be trained in the light side of the Force again.

“I thought a princess would have servants,” Ben glanced at the mess.

“You,” Rey thought aloud, then realized, “So he told you.” She blushed as memories continued to flood her. She wouldn’t cry. It was in the past. Needing something to do, she scrambled to pick up the towels that littered the floor.

“Yes.” He looked thoughtfully at her and stepped further into the room. Without being asked, he began organizing the weights on the stand by size, the heaviest first. “It was a secret you kept. Did I know? Back then?”

Rey wasn’t sure how to answer. The matter was complicated. She had never actually known how much he’d learned about her. It was safe to say he’d sensed the truth about her miserable parents. It wasn’t a memory she enjoyed.

Ben interpreted her silence as some form of embarrassment.

“Nevermind. Forget I asked. You’re entitled to your secrets, my lady.”

“Surely you talked about something other than me,” Rey offered. She watched him scan the room for a missing twenty-five-pound weight.

“Yes,” he answered, still searching, “Uncle told me many things. Long conversation. But I found Skywalker’s heir to be a particularly interesting subject.”

“You’re Skywalker’s heir, Ben. Now that we’ve found you, I plan to revoke the title once I’m married and settled on my home planet.” Then she added, “That weight’s probably gone. Could be in another room.”

He tensed. “You’d marry someone you don’t love to gain a title? Is being Queen so very important to you? I thought, being Skywalker’s Heir, you’d have all the power in the entire galaxy.”

Rey stopped gathering a handful of discarded sweatbands and stared point-blank at him. There he was again, the catalyst. Throwing wrenches into everything. Being bold and to point with a grace she found both annoying and attractive. If she didn’t halt his questions and come-ons now, he would have the wrong idea forever. They needed to reach an understanding.

“Not according to my elders. The title Skywalker’s Heir means very little to them. Galactic rulers come and go in their opinion. They are only concerned with the ancient monarchy of our planet. A Queen must be married. She must be a moral role model and produce heirs. Else my elders are content to continue to rule as regents.”

“Archaic doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Ben said under his breath. Finished with reorganizing the weights he could find, he moved on to a tangle of resistance bands, various strengths, and colors of red, blue, and green.

But Rey heard him loud and clear.

“Those are my people you’re insulting!” She felt guilty for shouting. Why did he still raise her ire so?

“I’ve forgotten so much,” he whipped a green band away from the tangle, “But any fool could see that’s disgustingly chauvinist. Forcing a woman to marry a list of requirements? I say rebel, sweetheart.”

“Ben,” she tried to keep herself calm, “I won’t ask again. Those are my people. The traditions of my planet, my family. I plan to honor them. I’ve waited for years.”

Ben gave a grieved sigh, “Will you help me with this tangle?” He lifted the resistance bands higher in frustration.

She closed the distance between them, grabbing the knotted bunch in the center, moving her fingers over the twisted loops as he held the bands steady. She was keenly aware of him watching her fingers work to untie the knots. Her breath caught as she realized, _he still finds me so intensely fascinating. ___

__Would she ever reach that sort of infatuation with Prince Hunton-Blather?_ _

__Finally, with each band straight, she intended to move the gym hamper containing the used towels in the hall. Before she released her grip on the red band, the last to be freed, he touched her._ _

__He placed his hand over hers. The sensation felt natural. Calming, somehow._ _

__“What if I courted you, Rey?” He asked._ _

__She forced herself to step back. Sliding her hand away made her heart ache. But he had to accept the truth._ _

__“You can’t.”_ _

__His mouth lifted in a near defiant smile, “But what if I could?”_ _

__She sighed, admitting, “Then our situation would be very different.”_ _

__“Good,” his eyes seemed on fire now, “That’s all I needed to know.”_ _

__“Ben, you have to understand.” She paused to make a steeple with her fingers. She sighed and pressed the roof, her fingertips, to her lips. “If I’m going to train you, help you, with the time I have left before my wedding, we have to establish some strict ground rules.”_ _

__“Such as, darling?”_ _

__There it was. That intense look she wanted to melt into. That princely confidence._ _

__“No pet names,” she clipped her tone, “No romance. You will respect that I am very nearly engaged to someone else. I’d like us to be friends, Ben. I want to help you. Really, I do. But I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. You mustn’t want more than that.”_ _

__“I am the lost prince of the late Alderaan. Surely that’s good enough for your people. Rey, all these years, I’ve loved...”_ _

__She interrupted him quick. Almost harsh as she fought tears forming in her eyes. “Ben, I need you to drop and give me twenty!”_ _

__He stared at her. Trying to make sense of the sudden change in her attitude._ _

__“We’ll focus on physical reconditioning first,” she continued, “Maybe in a few days I’ll let you hold a lightsaber.”_ _

__He nodded and obeyed. Dropping to the cold floor, he spread his palms wide. Twenty push-ups began quickly. Easily, as he had not neglected his physique in prison. When he wasn’t bending metal, or staring at the number on his arm, or dreaming of Rey, he’d worked out the old-fashioned way. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Jumping jacks. Lunges. Jogging in place. Occasionally punching the air at enemies he could no longer remember._ _

__“Make it fifty then,” she noticed his lack of struggle._ _

__Fifty came and went, as he decided to go to one hundred to impress her._ _

__Nearing one hundred, he wondered if a hundred and fifty would impress her even more._ _

__“You can stop now,” she offered._ _

__“When I’m rising to the occasion?” He said in-between breaths._ _

__“Perhaps we need to focus on a weakness, something other than arms and shoulders…”_ _

__“You think Prince Hunt Bland can do this for you?” He dared._ _

__“As a pilot, I’m sure Prince Hunton-Blather,” she applied emphasis on his correct name, “takes time to condition himself.”_ _

__“But you’re not sure?” Ben continued. When Rey didn’t answer, he added, “He probably weighs more than a Hutt, is toothless, and completely hairless.”_ _

__“I’ve seen his photo,” she blurted before she could take it back. “And so long as he’s not insulting.”_ _

__“So you find him more attractive than me already?”_ _

__“That’s another ground rule. Attraction falls under the category of romance.”_ _

__And so they quarreled until it was time to dress for dinner._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote in 2017, but I had a difficult time finding a way to end this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning a gold protocol droid entered Ben’s new room, introduced himself properly with some such letters and numbers and prattled on about waking up and how important it was to start the day early.

Ben cracked a tired eye open.

The protocol droid was purposefully turning on all the lights in the room and opening the windows to the peaceful gardens below.

Ben hid his head under a pillow.

He had slept as well as could be expected. The bed, fit for a king, was lavishly soft. Too soft compared to the life he had grown accustomed. With so much on his mind, he had awakened several times surprised not to be in his prison cell. Jolted awake by his new, strange surroundings, he’d ruminated about the loss of his mother, the changes in his life, and fragmented memories from his missing past.

Truth be told, he was also a little sore from all the exercise. Impressing Rey was difficult. But Ben felt certain if it wasn’t for Rey’s Prince-Whoever and her planet’s elders, the attraction, the old spark between them, still existed. Her strict ground rules were merely a barrier to deny the way she felt about him. He understood she wanted to help her people by becoming Queen. But surely there was a way around the archaic rules. He very nearly fit the requirements. Perhaps, there was a way to lobby her elders, make an amendment to their ancient constitution. It wasn’t his fault Alderaan no longer existed. There had to be another way, some consideration for circumstances beyond his control.

Before meeting Rey in the training room, one of his uncle’s Wookie guards had shown him to the palace’s archive as his uncle suggested. Upon entry, the sheer number of shelves overwhelmed Ben. The enormous room seemed to hold all the knowledge in the galaxy. He had never fathomed that so many books remained in existence. Rows of nine-foot-tall bookcases appeared to go on endlessly. He hadn’t known where to start. On each bookcase, the different subjects and sections were labeled in a dozen different languages. He thought it strange, he realized, that he could read them all, even if he didn’t remember their planetary origins.

For a time he had wandered endlessly with the Wookie guard silently following him. Ben being completely in awe of the archive. Finally, a blue Ortolan librarian with thick glasses quietly approached him. She seemed to anticipate the subjects he sought, loading his arms with histories on Alderaan, the Old Republic, the Galactic Empire, the Jedi, the First Order, and tome biographies on Bail Organa, Anakin Skywalker, his parents, and Snoke.

Afterwards, the Wookie had shown him the way to the training room and to his new quarters. Ben, hands still full of books, thanked him with a nod. He decided it wasn’t surprising that he also understood the Wookie’s speak, a gruff “take care.” Something about the tone felt homey, almost like a second language from childhood.

Directly, Ben met a BB unit who paused stocking the room with necessities to give him the set of training clothes.

As a whole, after their training session, Ben thought their dinner together had gone pretty well. He’d been surprised his uncle hadn’t joined them. Instead, Rey had allowed him to sit beside her, in their awkward second dinner for two. Although she wouldn’t hear any more challenges to Prince What’s-His-Face’s character, she had enjoyed instructing him on the proper utensils to use with each unique course. Almost as though, future etiquette would be important to him.

Presently holding on to hope for the future, he could almost drift back to sleep.

Frantically, Ben was informed by the rather pushy droid that if he didn’t wake up, he would be late for his fitting with the tailor. Furthermore, said appointments with the specific designer were hard to come by on such short notice and probably couldn’t be rescheduled for months.

Ben rolled over, squinting his eyes, trying to face the light. The droid was a blur of gold.

“What did you say your name was?”

“I am C3P0, human cyborg relations. Master Solo, I’ve known you for quite a long time,” the droid lifted his hand, but quickly hung his head, “I’m sure like everyone else you’ve forgotten all about me. But I’ve a long history with your family. As of late, I belonged to your mother. Mistress Rey told me I’m to be your property now. If you’ll have me.”

Ben slowly lifted himself upright. His mother’s droid? No, he didn’t remember his mother owning a droid. Yet, perhaps, in time, the droid could help refresh his memory and tell him new stories about his mother’s life. He gave a groggy smile, thankful for the droid’s existence, even if the light was blinding him. 

He raked a lazy hand through his dark, tangled hair, still squinting. “Certainly. Well, Threepio, you can start by telling me, why do I need a fitting with a fancy tailor?”

“Goodness me, Mistress Rey didn’t tell you?” The droid drew back. “When they announce her engagement in all likelihood the media outlets will also be interested in your return. You were very well known in the galaxy. People naturally will be curious. You can’t very well show yourself in antique clothing, Jedi robes, or training gear.”

“Watch me,” Ben allowed himself to fall back on the pillow with a cushioned thud, “I have no desire to prove anything.” He didn’t remember the galaxy’s opinions of him, nor did he care. Kylo Ren, whomever he’d been then, was gone. He had worn the antique suit for Rey, and Rey alone. Jedi robes were fine. He would wear them from now on.

“Oh, dear,” the droid became increasingly downcast, “And after all the insistence Our Master Skywalker had to go through to get you an appointment the same day as Mistress Rey’s fitting.”

“Rey’s fitting?” Ben sat up again, lifting his hand like a shield to cover the light.

“Yes, a young woman of her great important will have to meet her pre-approved suitor in something most impressive. And there’s also the wedding dress to consider.”

“Her wedding dress?” Ben’s face suddenly burned.

“Yes, she’s nearly decided, you see. She doesn’t want to delay her coronation as Queen any longer than she has to. I’ve heard the bridal gown design is quite ravishing. They’ve been working on it for weeks.”

Ben threw his feet to the floor. He quickly demanded, “How do I find this tailor?”

…

Rey stood on the ottoman, in front of the tailor’s semi-circle of mirrors, her eyes closed, waiting for the surprise reveal. She had not seen her wedding gown since the final alternations.

Her two Rodian personal assistants were busy at work lacing the white ribbons that completed her gown. She had requested the laces tight. Ever so often, she felt them pull and tug. Rey held her breath. Eventually, after much waiting, she felt them tie the loose ends into a bow.

“We think it’s beautiful. What do you think?” One of her assistants asked brightly.

Rey opened her eyes. Immediately, her mouth parted in surprise. She remained speechless. In the mirror, the image of a young bride reflected back at her. She was a sea of white. An angel from a storybook. She blushed, not recognizing herself in the simmering elegance of her custom gown. In comparison to her usual strong and sophisticated attire, this was definitively feminine, delicate, and soft. The famous Tailor Erock had outdone himself, again. She was stunning. The gown was perfect for her. Every future bride’s dream. She smiled, grateful for the honor of wearing Tailor Erock’s ethereal artistry. Soon he could also begin work on her coronation gown.

With thoughts of her impending wedding, Rey suddenly felt a little bit dizzy. It was actually happening.

The next step was meeting the prince.

She had to look away. To regain her focus, she took a moment to inspect the intricate lace sleeves, tracing the swirling patterning with her finger. She felt as though her arms were covered in thousands of delicate snowflakes.

Without warning, she recalled the first time she had witnessed snow. _StarKiller Base._

When she returned her gaze forward, Ben Solo’s image darkened the mirror.

Rey swore a bolt of lightning hit her body. She trembled, causing her gown to rustle against the ottoman with a soft swoosh.

Ben’s black, beautiful hair was a disheveled mess. The dark circles under his eyes stood out against his pale skin. His mouth parted in surprise. He stood in old Jedi robes, a white tunic with two black tabards on top. Somehow, he still managed to make the old material look knightly. Regal. He looked like one of the portraits that hung in the palace, like the old Jedi legends.

Her breath caught, chest tightened. Ben looked as fine as the first time she’d seen him. The time she had called him a creature in a mask, and he’d unlatched his helmet, revealing eyes that could burn through her.

She blinked, baffled for a second, wondering if she was having a vision or a daydream, before realizing everyone else was staring at Ben, too. He had presently walked up behind her.

Rey turned around, the gown twirling with her.

She searched his face. For an instant he struggled to regain his composure, trying to return his mouth to a thin line. His tired eyes looked like they could weep. But not out of sorrow. No, there was a genuine tenderness on his face. He might have been witnessing a glorious wonder. A sunset. Or the view from a mountainside. An endless ocean.

It struck her, and she wondered, had any other man ever looked at her the way Ben Solo did?

The word “complete” reached her consciousness. As did “love.”

“Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe...” Ben shook his head slightly, almost to wake himself from a trance. His gaze traveled over every aspect of the gown and back to hold Rey’s stare. “You are as radiant as twin suns. Light within and out. More divine than any dream I ever had.” She noticed his slight pout. That soft mouth she had purposely forbid herself to kiss. He added, “The dress is very nice.”

She tried to hold herself still, although her cheeks were burning. How could she meet Prince Hunton-Blather with a clear conscience when Ben Solo made her feel this way?

Lightening fast he was standing below her, taking her hand. 

For the moment, she let him. She didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t expected to see him. His hands were warm, while hers were cold.

“And who’s this?” Tailor Erock Duros, human male, forehead ceased, and his salt and pepper eyebrows furrowed as he entered the room. He and his three Twi’lek assistants had returned from his office with the sketches for Rey’s coronation attire. Upon seeing Ben in the old robes, he frowned. Vintage Jedi was so last year.

“Ben Solo,” Rey offered quickly. Remembering herself, she squeezed Ben’s hands, and released them, folding hers neatly against the white bodice. Ben appeared disappointed. He crossed arms defensively, looking as though he were suddenly on trial by the famous stranger and his friends.

“Ah,” Tailor Erock lifted his finger in the air in triumph, “That would explain it.” He waved away his concern nonchalantly. “I like a man who’s punctual. Your reputation precedes you.” He was thoughtful a moment, imagining the wondrous suits he could design for such a tall figure. “But looking at you, I don’t believe the rumors.”

“Punctual?” Rey tried to change the subject, not understanding why Ben, of all people, had been invited to her fitting.

“His fitting is next,” Tailor Erock smiled a perfect toothy grin and nodded. His eyes slowly darted between Rey and Ben, almost deciding something. He handed Rey the sketches with a graceful bow of his head. “He’ll need something to wear, too, when you get married.”

“We’re not,” Rey started to clarify, but caught herself. Ben, her assistants, Tailor Erock, and his assistants all waited for her to finish. Awkwardly she covered her mistake, “T-talking about vintage designs?” She grinned. “I love Ben in vintage clothes.” She bit her tongue, wishing she hadn’t gushed the last part. It wasn’t fair to Ben, to encourage him with compliments. As he had said many years ago, she needed to let the past go. Especially now, for his sake, with her standing in her wedding gown.

“Oh no, my dear,” Tailor Erock made sounds of disapproval with his teeth, “He’d stick out like a sore thumb. Such a commanding figure. I’m thinking new, bold, fitted. A rich burgundy, maybe?”

“Um,” Rey noticed Ben kept his eyes downcast, visibly uncomfortable. Perhaps there’d been a reason he’d worn identical copies of his notorious black First Order attire. He seemed content to let Rey speak for him. “In all honesty, I think it best, if we avoid all shades of red and black for the time being.”

“Oh, of course,” Tailor Erock motioned for his nearest assistant to make a note. “How thoughtless of me. A limited palette, a challenge. Let’s see. Well, if we’re trying to convey the opposite of the figure everyone used to know, I recall white being a favorite of his mother and grandmother’s.”

“You knew my mother?” Ben finally cast his skeptical eyes to the tailor.

“I never had the pleasure of designing an outfit for her. However, she was kind enough to allow me to view her collection of your grandmother’s gowns, back when I was just a struggling art graduate.” The tailor became wistful, his eyes watering before opening his palm to Rey’s gown, “The memory influences everything I create.”

“Everyone knew her,” Ben whispered to himself. Rey heard.

“Well, dear,” Tailor Erock turned his attention back to Rey, “If you’ve no other requests, let me know what you decide about the coronation gown next week. Then we’ll get started with Mr. Solo here.”

Ben very much doubted he was going to enjoy this appointment.

Quickly, Rey’s assistants were helping her step down from the ottoman. She was going to change and leave. He didn’t want her to leave. He wasn’t sure what came over him next.

“Rey,” he dared to touch the center of her back, his fingertips grazing the delicate material of her gown. She stopped in her tracks. He knew it was wrong. He shouldn’t ask. But he didn’t want to face this alone. He felt self-conscious. He didn’t know what type of clothes he needed any more than he knew which spoon to use at a formal dinner. Clothing style hardly mattered to him. But looking handsome in Rey’s eyes did. His heart had soared at the mention of the word love. He couldn’t let her go. “You will…stay with me? I’m lost in all of this…”

She debated for an instant. For a second, Ben thought perhaps she’d mention her “ground rules” again. Instead, her features softened, “If you’d like my advice, yes. I want…” she blinked holding his gaze, “I want you to be a success here.” She wanted to add, “before I leave,” but Tailor Erock interrupted their trance with his shifting and waving for more notes.

“Yes, yes! And clothes make the man! When I’m done creating his white suits, the two of you will be perfect bookends. A perfect matching pair for all the galaxy to see.”

Rey felt horrorstruck but forced a sheepish smile and nodded in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tailor Erock ships Reylo ;D


End file.
